I can feel it there.

I know there’s something at the foot of my bed. Each night I know it’s there. I can’t see it, I don’t need to see it. I can feel it. I can feel the corner of the bed pushed down by it’s weight. It’s just there. All night. Lingering in the dark. Watching me. I have my head buried in my blankets. It’s so hot, I can hardly breathe, I’m so sick of the smell of my own breath, I just want fresh air. I don’t want to see it. Every night it sits there. And every night I burrow into my bed wishing I could sink lower. Down into the mattress and away from it…the thing that sits on the corner of my bed. Every. Single. Night.

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